Pine Woods Treefrogs often call in huge numbers from terrestrial locations.
Last nite (06 Aug 2020) was a 1 snake (cottonmouth) aor and 1 snake (same species) DOR kind of night. Storms had been forecast for earlier in the day but, as usual, they arrived late. I had motored about 65 miles northward hoping for a warm temperature and dry road. By the time I had arrived at the destination a rainy dusk had enveloped the region and temperatures had plummeted from the 80s to the low 70s. I knew by that time that I had been lucky to see even that single cottonmouth. Rain fell, then fell harder, then harder still. The world—or at least my little part of it-- appeared awash. But it soon became apparent that this was just what the anurans, the hylids and the microhylids, had been waiting for. There was no lead in to the anuran chorus. One minute the region was silent, and of a sudden, frog voices echoed from mile after mile of newly refreshed roadside ditches. The choruses were astounding.

Pine Woods tree frogs were by far the most numerous. Hunkered down in the grasses their Morse Code cadences were deafening in some flatland areas. They were followed next by the honks and churrs of green and squirrel treefrogs. A fair sized chorus of Cope’s gray treefrogs was heard back near a forest stream, and bronze and pig frogs were plunking and grunting from Impassible Bay. Only a single barking treefrog was seen, it sitting quietly on the road. Cricket frogs called in fair numbers from various flooded locales.I estimated the calling anurans in the thousands. No way to guess at the non-vocalizing females. Interestingly, I saw zero bufonids of either species or either sex.

Friend and researcher Dr. Sam Sweet’s comment when I told him about the experience was “You hit the storms just right! I went SW and everything cleared up by dark -- one small ribbon snake, a baby N. fasciata and about 10 leopard frogs on 55 miles of road.” Sam’s ending comment, “Floriduh!”